


Mine

by maraudersaffair



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bars and Pubs, Dirty Talk, F/F, Friends With Benefits, Lesbian Pansy Parkinson, Ministry of Magic Employee Hermione Granger, Oral Sex, Pining, Rimming, Semi-Public Sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-02-28 18:51:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18762328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maraudersaffair/pseuds/maraudersaffair
Summary: Pansy can’t stop fucking Hermione. She also can’t stop thinking about her. Could Hermione feel the same way?





	Mine

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!

Pansy was a bit of a slut. She really was. She liked quiet women. She liked women who were hesitant, who were new to shagging other women. She liked knowing that she was the only one with the answers.

At first, Hermione had been like all the rest. At first, she’d been nervous, trembling. She’d cried against her mouth as Pansy fucked her over the edge, fingers going deeper and deeper. 

Pansy didn’t like relationships. She didn’t like commitment or meeting your mum. She shagged women who wanted to hide her, who didn’t take it seriously, who were waiting for the right one and Pansy wasn’t the right one. 

She and Hermione had been fucking for seven months now. It was a long time. Sometimes they talked afterward. Sometimes they went to the cinema or enjoyed a posh dinner at a posh restaurant. Sometimes Pansy spent her entire night trying to get Hermione to laugh. She loved it when Hermione laughed.

They were at the pub. Everyone was there. Draco and Harry and Ron and Blaise. Everyone was there but Pansy could only look at Hermione. Hermione was mesmerizing. She was beautiful. Pansy sipped her sweet cocktail, leaving lipstick kisses on the rim.

“Just go talk to her,” Hermione said to Ron. 

Ron’s ears were turning pink. “No. She’s busy. She’s - ”

“She’s doing absolutely nothing,” Draco interrupted. 

“She’s waiting for that Weasley D,” Blaise said, and the whole table roared with laughter. 

Ron smacked his hands over his face. “You just made her look over here!”

“No, we didn’t,” Harry said gently. He clapped Ron on the back. “Ask to buy her a drink. It’s not that complicated, mate.”

Ron shot him a wounded look. “I’ve never been good at _you know_.”

This just made everyone laugh again. Harry nudged him toward the bar where the pretty blonde was standing. If Pansy hadn’t been so damn obsessed with Hermione, she’d be jealous that Ron might have a chance with her tonight.

Hermione caught her eye and winked. Pansy spilled some of her cocktail as she tried to take a casual sip.

“My drink tastes like shit,” Blaise said, sneering at his glass.

“You’re just angry that no leggy blonde is staring at you,” Draco said.

Blaise quirked an eyebrow at him. “It’s only a matter of time.”

“I’m already taken, mate,” Draco said, grinning with all his teeth. He was utterly pissed, Pansy could tell. 

“Stop flirting with my boyfriend,” Harry said, but he looked as if he secretly liked it. Of course he secretly liked it. Even Pansy could see that Draco and Blaise would be attractive together. 

“I think I’m going to do it.” Ron walked toward the blonde. Everyone at the table clapped slowly, sarcastically. Blaise and Harry pretended to wipe away invisible tears.

“Men,” Hermione said, and rolled her eyes. “I’m sure that woman is just as nervous as Ron.”

“Doubtful,” Blaise said. “Too good looking.”

“The blonde or Weasley?” Draco said. Blaise ignored him.

Hermione looked at Pansy again. She gave a little nod toward the toilets. Pansy felt herself getting excited. She always loved it when they messed around in public. 

Pansy got up casually, finishing her cocktail. She wandered to the bar and feigned looking over the drink menu. Then she headed for the toilets. 

The pub was clean and posh and hip. The toilets had gleaming metal stalls and a hot pink neon sign above the mirrors that said _Fun!_ Pansy cleaned up her makeup and inspected her face. Her eyes were a bit watery and her cheeks were flushed. You could tell she was tipsy. As she washed her hands, Hermione came through the door and slipped into the stall at the end. They didn’t look at each other. 

Pansy squeezed her thighs together and bit her lip. She took a deep breath before joining Hermione.

The stall was small, the toilet thankfully clean. They could cast spells to disillusion themselves, but they didn’t reach for their wands. Being seen was half the fun. 

Hermione just stood there. Pansy closed the space between them. She ran her fingers through Hermione’s thick curls. She smelled her neck. “I love your perfume.” 

“You smell like vodka,” Hermione said. 

“Do you think I’ll taste like it, too?”

Hermione kissed her. It wasn’t gentle or shy, but hungry and needy and messy. Pansy moaned loudly and buried her hands in her hair. Hermione controlled the kiss; she bit and licked and made desperate little noises. She didn’t taste like alcohol. 

Pansy hiked up her skirt and sneaked a hand into her lacy knickers. Hermione was so wet for her, and she easily worked two fingers inside, so silky, so warm. 

“God,” Hermione said, letting her head thud on the stall wall. 

Fucking her slowly, Pansy watched her face, drinking in every little expression. She worked her clit, mapping how it got bigger, harder. She paused her thrusting so she could pinch her clit, rotating it between her fingers. She strummed it like a guitar and felt Hermione jerk with each touch.

She slid to her knees so she could taste Hermione. Her clit was like a pebble under her flattened tongue. She licked and licked until Hermione’s thighs began to quiver. Hermione clutched her head. She rocked into her mouth.

“I love your pretty little cunt,” Pansy said, her chin drenched. 

Hermione’s eyes were dark and lidded. She pulled Pansy to her feet and kissed her again. She licked her own arousal from Pansy’s mouth. She was so damn greedy for it.

The entrance door swung open and two women came inside, their heels clicking on the tile. Pansy smacked a hand over Hermione’s mouth. She thrust three fingers in her, wanting it to hurt a little. Hermione arched and made a loud, muffled sound. 

“What was that?” said a woman.

“Shut up,” Pansy whispered, and started fucking her fast and hard. Hermione’s eyes rolled back.

“No idea,” said the other woman, going into the stall right next to them. There was some rustling as she tried to get out of her dress or skirt. “Have you heard from your mum?”

“No, _thank god_. I think she’s tired of being a bitch for tonight.”

“She’s always a bitch.”

“Yeah, but I feel like she’s gotten worse since I started dating Donovan.”

“Donovan’s a slag.”

“We’re both slags.”

They cackled loudly and Hermione moaned and writhed, all her noises still muffled by Pansy’s hand. Pansy opened her mouth to her cheek, tasting her sweat and makeup. “Slut,” she whispered in her ear, and this made Hermione moan again.

“I think someone’s in the stall next to me.”

“Oh my god, I can see their legs.”

A toilet flushed. “Are you all right in there? Nobody sicking up?”

Pansy released Hermione’s mouth and squeezed a fourth finger into her wet cunt.

“Oh, fuck,” Hermione cried. 

“Gross!” one said.

“Yeah, I couldn’t imagine shagging in the toilets.”

The women left. Pansy kissed Hermione, swallowing her whimpers, as her fingers sped up. Hermione was close; she was squeezing around her fingers, trembling, thrashing. 

“Slut,” Pansy whispered again. “You’re my little slut.”

“Oh, Pans,” Hermione said, and she was coming, or at least she was clenching Pansy’s fingers so hard they ached. Pansy fucked her through her bliss, her thumb working her hard clit. 

When Hermione relaxed, Pansy eased her fingers out. She kissed Hermione deeply, then tried to step back. Hermione grabbed her. 

“Come back to my flat.”

“Right now?” Pansy said.

“Yeah.” Hermione took out her wand. She had them soaring through darkness before Pansy could really think about it.

They landed in her lounge. Pansy tried to head to the toilet to wash her fingers, but Hermione pounced on her, ripping off her clothes, getting her on her back. She licked her cunt, tongue going deep, and Pansy cried out and laughed.

“Merlin, you’re in a hurry!”

Hermione bit her thigh, then slid her tongue inside again. Pansy writhed and grabbed uselessly at the carpet. She had no idea when Hermione had gotten so good at this.

“Fuck me, fuck me,” Pansy chanted. “Use me, I want to be used.” 

Hermione made a hungry noise and quickened her licking. She sucked her outer lips, playing with them. She spread Pansy wide so she could see her clit. “So pretty,” she said. 

Then Pansy was being forced onto her stomach. She thought Hermione wanted her to lay down, but Hermione urged her to her knees. “What are you doing?” Pansy asked, breathless. 

“No more talking,” Hermione said, and she sounded like she was at work, bossing people around at the Ministry. She parted Pansy’s cheeks and licked her arsehole.

“Hermione!” Pansy pressed her face to the floor, embarrassed. She hadn’t prepared her arse like she’d prepared her cunt.

She licked her again and again, getting her wet. She drilled into her with the point of her tongue, and Pansy felt herself open.

“Fuck,” she panted, the word drawn out. She wanted to warn Hermione not to go from arse to cunt, but she couldn’t form sentences. 

“You taste so good,” Hermione said, humming, all her saliva dripping. She worked Pansy open, which took a while, but it was good, so good. Then her tongue was stroking _inside_ , and Pansy felt faint. No one had ever eaten her arse like this, and it was intimate, so fucking intimate.

“Hermione,” she whispered, not knowing what she was feeling. She felt like she was about to shatter.

“You’re mine.” Hermione bit her cheek, hard. She resumed fucking her arse, but then she slipped two fingers into her cunt, massaging, thrusting slowly, and Pansy came. She cried into the carpet, rocking back on her tongue and fingers, feeling utterly wrecked. 

Trembling, she fell to her side and Hermione pulled her tight against her chest. She kissed her cheek with her naughty mouth. 

“Fuck, Hermione,” Pansy said, laughing tiredly. She could barely focus her eyes. “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“I’m capable of many things.” There was a smile in her voice. 

Pansy nestled closer. She felt so safe in her arms.

*

Pansy went home at dawn. She had to get ready for work and shake off her hangover. She didn’t know why the group went to the pub on work nights.

After she had a shower, she stood in front of her foggy mirror. She was too lazy to do anything with her hair, but she made sure to do her makeup. She was bound to see Hermione at work and she wanted to look her best. She choose a light but glittery eyeshadow and her signature dark red lipstick. She spent a good ten minutes perfecting her eyeliner.

The Ministry was bustling and too bright. Pansy shielded her eyes as she fought her way to the lifts. Everyone was trying to get to their offices on time.

Ron sneaked into the lift before the door closed. He had an enormous love bite on his neck. Pansy smirked at him.

“So, she took pity on you?”

“Her name is Matilda and she fancies me, thank you very much.”

Pansy laughed and waved at him as he got off at the DMLE level. She was headed lower to Public Relations. 

Her office was calmer than the lobby, but there was still Knobhead to content with. He glared at her. “We’ve got a meeting with the Minister’s office first thing this morning.”

“I know, Gerald. I didn’t forget.”

He checked his pocket watch. “Then why are you late?”

“I’m not late.” She smiled and walked to the conference room.

Hermione was already there. She was the Minister’s assistant.

“Hello,” Pansy said, trying not to be awkward. She thought about Hermione’s tongue in her arse, and felt her face flame. 

“Good morning!” Hermione said brightly. She bought Pansy and Gerald cups of tea.

“Bless you,” Pansy said, and saw that her tea was already fixed the way she liked. Gerald had to add milk and sugar to his. 

Hermione passed them meeting notes. “As we discussed during our last meeting, the Minister wants a media campaign that focuses on broomstick regulation. He wants to put a new bill in front of the Wizengamot by fall and he needs public support.”

Pansy nodded along, but she wasn’t really focusing on the task at hand. Hermione caught her eye and nodded encouragingly, not a hint of embarrassment or wickedness in her expression. How could she act so professional and calm when Pansy was desperately trying not to blush?

“Pansy and I have already drawn up some plans,” Gerald said, pushing a few folders across the table to Hermione. “Will you show them to the Minister and let us know what he thinks? The first plan starts in May, the second in July. We want to avoid oversaturation.” 

Hermione flipped through the folders. “What do you think, Pansy?”

She started and tried not to show it. “Um, I think the campaign beginning in July is fine. It saves us money and gives people less time to not look at our adverts.” 

Nodding seriously, Hermione said, “Yes, I believe the Minister feels the same way. The people who don’t read adverts will ignore them no matter how long we keep them up.”

“Exactly,” Pansy said, avoiding her eyes.

“Smashing!” Gerald said. “I’m glad that we are all on the same page.”

“Me too,” Hermione said, still gazing Pansy.

After the meeting, Pansy lingered in the conference room as Gerald said his goodbyes and marched out. She half expected Hermione to follow him, but she let the door shut and turned to Pansy. 

“Nice eyeliner,” Hermione said. “I can never get my lines so neat.”

Pansy pushed her against the wall. They were snogging before she knew what she was doing, hands buried in robes and hair. Hermione kissed her back desperately. Pansy wanted to _consume_ her. 

Then the door opened and they had to jump apart. It was Harry of all people. He knew exactly what he had interrupted.

“I don’t mean to intrude,” he said, his eyes twinkling, “but Robards is looking for you, Hermione.”

Hermione righted her robes and tried to fix her hair. “I didn’t know you came down to this level.”

He raised his cup. “They have better coffee.”

Pansy couldn’t look at either of them. She mumbled a quick goodbye and darted from the room. It wasn’t like her to lose confidence in front of Gryffindors, but Hermione was getting under her skin. She was making her feel all sorts of things she didn’t want to feel.

*

Later that day, Pansy received an owl from Draco asking her to dinner. It took her a few minutes of thinking before she accepted. She had been planning to ask Hermione to her flat, maybe replay what they had done last night, but she didn’t want to come across as too needy.

She sent an owl back, agreeing to dinner, knowing that she would be third wheel to him and Harry. Yuck, but sometimes these things couldn’t be avoided. She liked Harry just fine. He was rarely annoying with Draco, but it was hard to not feel left out when she was around a couple that fancied each other so much.

She stayed at work longer than usual, telling herself it was to get a head start on the broomstick regulation campaign, but also hoping that Hermione would stop by her office and invite her to the pub. Draco would understand if Pansy had to cancel. He’d done it loads of times when he first started shagging Harry.

At six-thirty, Pansy sighed and gathered her things. The Ministry was practically deserted, and only a few poor folk wandered through the grand lobby. She stepped into a Floo and said Draco’s address half-heartedly. 

When she twirled out of their Floo, she found Draco and Harry lounging on their sofa, with Draco’s head in Harry’s lap. Draco had always loved it when people petted him. She remembered doing it back at Hogwarts.

“You made it,” Draco said, sitting up and stretching. 

She hung up her cloak and purse. “It smells delicious in here. Did you make a roast?”

“Only for you.” Draco gave her a tight hug. He paused to examine her face. “Is there something wrong? You look tired.”

She pulled away, uncomfortable. She hated that he could read her so well. “Everything’s fine.”

“What can I get you to drink, Pans?” Harry said.

“I’d love a glass of wine.”

They wandered into the kitchen, which was charmed to be big and roomy, even with a large dining table crouched in the corner. The table was already set, and Pansy saw the elegant centerpiece and emerald serviettes, and knew it’d been set by Draco. 

Harry poured her wine and Draco cut the roast. 

“I can’t believe you were snogging Hermione at work,” Harry said, handing her a wine glass.

She took a sip and almost sighed. She glared at him. “Mind your own business, Potter.”

Draco’s eyebrows went up. “When did this happen?”

Harry gave her a challenging look. Pansy rolled her eyes.

“Today, after a meeting. We were left alone and it just happened.”

Draco grinned at Harry. “I remember those days.”

Pansy held up her hand. “Save me the details.”

“You do look a bit depressed,” Harry said, serving them some roast and veg and directing their plates to the table.

They sat down and Pansy ate a few bites before answering him. “I’m fine. Really.”

Draco and Harry shared a look. Pansy _hated_ when they did that.

“I saw Weasley this morning,” Pansy said, trying to change the subject.

“Which one?” Harry said.

“Ron.” It was still strange to call Gryffindors by their first name. “He had a big love bite on his neck.”

“Yeah, I saw that, too.” Harry grinned. “I hope Matilda works out. He really needs a win with women.”

She almost felt bad. It was hard not to imagine that Ron still pinned for Hermione, especially now that Pansy knew what she could do in the bedroom. He really was missing out. 

“I always miss all the fun,” Draco said, playing with his roast. 

“You’re the one who chose to be a bloody Unspeakable,” Pansy said.

Draco ate some veg sadly. “Still.”

Harry took a long sip of his wine. He looked thoughtful. “You know, Hermione’s crazy about you.”

She focused on her food. “Does she talk to you about me?”

“Some.” There was brief silence, and she knew they were sharing another look. She bloody hated couples. “She really fancies you,” Harry said.

“Of course she does,” Pansy said. 

“What the hell does that mean?” Draco said.

She shrugged, not sure if she should go into detail. “The sex is good. We have a lot of fun together.”

“Merlin,” Draco said, setting down his fork and knife loudly. “Do you fancy her or not?”

“Sure.” She could feel his glare.

“That’s not a proper answer and you know it.”

Now it was her turn to glare. “I wasn’t aware that my love life was any of your business.”

“Of course it’s my business!” Draco squawked. 

She felt her face getting hot. She didn’t want to talk to them about this. She barely even wanted to think about it, but she felt the truth coming out nevertheless. “I’m afraid to show how much I fancy her because I’m afraid she doesn’t feel the same way.” 

They blinked at her, surprised by her honesty. She was surprised, too. 

“I’m sick of keeping it all in. I’m sick of carrying around this secret.” 

“You should tell her,” Harry said gently.

“I can’t,” Pansy said. “We were supposed to just shag. It wasn’t supposed to turn serious.”

“Maybe Hermione wants it to be serious,” Harry said.

“That’s not what she said in the beginning! She said she was glad it was casual because it allowed her to focus entirely on her work.” Pansy frowned, hating what she was about to say next. “I’m not used to being the one to want it more. I don’t like it. People should pursue _me_ , not the other way around.”

“People change,” Draco said, his voice soft, and Pansy knew that voice. It meant he pitied her.

“Merlin.” She gritted her teeth. “Did you just invite me over so you can feel sorry for me?”

“No!” Harry said.

“I’m stupid, okay? I fell for a woman who has no interest in me outside the bedroom and I will have to live with the consequences.”

Harry sighed heavily. “She’s at home, you know. She’s at home right now and waiting for you.”

Pansy stared at him. “Hermione’s waiting for me? What do you mean?”

“It means she’s mad about you,” Draco said impatiently. “It means you are wasting everyone’s time by refusing to see what’s right in front of you.”

She opened and closed her mouth. “How do you know all this?”

Draco looked like he was dying to answer, but Harry shot him a warning look. “Hermione’s my best friend,” Harry said. “How do you think I know all this?”

She pushed her plate away and drained her wine. Her heart was thumping and she felt a bit sick. “So, I suppose I should pop over to Hermione’s. See what she's doing tonight.”

“That sounds like a great idea,” Harry said with a grin. 

They walked her to the Floo. Harry helped her into her cloak and Draco handed over her purse. She hugged them tightly; Harry smelled faintly of rosemary.

“Thank you,” she said, even though she still was very unsure. “I was being a fool.”

“You were, but it’s okay,” Draco said warmly. “It happens to everyone.”

She stepped into the Floo. She threw down the powder and said Hermione’s address. A moment later, she was whirling through dusty images and bright light.

*

When she stumbled out of the fireplace, she still had no idea what she would say to Hermione.

Hermione was on her sofa, holding a book. She blinked at Pansy, then quickly turned red. She jumped up. “I wasn’t expecting you to come over.”

Pansy brushed the soot from her hair, hoping she didn’t look too much like a mess. “I should have given you a warning. I’m sorry.”

Smiling, she said, “It’s all right. I’m glad you’re here.”

“I was at Harry and Draco’s. They asked me over for dinner, but then I realized I should be here instead.”

“What made you realize that?”

Pansy tugged on the sleeves of her cloak. Even with her hair a mess and her face naked without makeup, Hermione looked gorgeous. She looked unattainable. It broke her heart. 

Pansy took a deep breath. “We have a lot of fun, don’t we?” Hermione frowned. “I mean, it’s obviously a lot of fun, but recently I’ve been feeling different things.”

“Different?”

“Yeah, _different_. I was thinking . . . hoping that you would be my . . . girlfriend.” She practically whispered the last word.

“Your what?”

Pansy cleared her throat. “My girlfriend.”

Hermione smiled with all her teeth. “Really?”

“Yeah . . . unless you don’t want it.”

“You want me to be your _exclusive_ girlfriend?”

“How many girlfriends do you think I have?”

“That’s what you said when we first started sleeping together. You said you had loads of girlfriends. You said that you didn’t want to settle down.”

Pansy looked away. Her palms were sweating. “No one has ever made me feel this way. I’m so terribly sad when I’m not around you. I _miss_ you.”

Hermione laughed, and she sounded like she was happy, so happy. She pulled Pansy into a hug and kissed her. “I hate imagining you with anyone else.”

“Is that why you ate my arse?”

“Maybe.” Hermione laughed again and hid her face. “You do have a very nice arse.”

Pansy kissed her again, deeper this time, and she let herself bury her hands in Hermione’s hair and moan as loudly as she wanted. She was done with hiding. She was done with being a coward.

Gasping, Hermione pulled her to the bedroom. They tumbled onto the bed, which was plush and big, but didn’t begin removing their clothes. They kissed and kissed, arms wrapped around each other and hearts racing. Pansy kissed her forehead and her cheeks. She nibbled on her neck just to hear her giggle. 

“Pans,” Hermione whispered, and met her lips again. 

When their clothes did come off, they remained slow and gentle. Pansy took Hermione’s large breasts into her hands, squeezing. She took each nipple into her mouth, sucking, licking. They had all the time in the world. 

Hermione’s nipples were sensitive; she squirmed and moaned. She was talking as Pansy kissed down her warm stomach to taste in between her thighs. 

“I’m so mad about you,” Hermione said, gasping. “I was afraid that you didn’t feel the same way.”

“Of course I feel the same way.” Pansy tongued her clit slowly, making long, wet swipes. She tasted how wet Hermione was for her. 

“You never told me.” Hermione’s voice shook from the pleasure.

“I was afraid, too. Hold yourself open for me.”

Hermione held her lips back so Pansy could tongue her deeply, her arousal thick and salty. She fucked her slowly, reveling in the taste, wanting her chin to be drenched. Pansy worked her clit, strumming faster and faster.

“Oh, fuck, I’m coming,” Hermione said, her voice barely a whisper, and she clenched around Pansy. 

Pansy wished she could see her face; Hermione was so beautiful when she came. Still gasping, Hermione sat up and pushed her onto her back. She kissed her deeply, her arousal smearing their lips. They both groaned.

“What do you want?” Hermione said.

“You.”

Hermione laughed lowly. She thrust two fingers into her. “You’re dripping for me.”

“Fuck,” Pansy said, back arching.

Hermione fucked her quickly, her thumb working her clit, her fingers going so damn deep. Pansy trembled. “Are you going to come for me?”

“Soon.” Pansy was meeting her fingers, her eyes fluttering, her teeth gritted. She wanted more; she wanted so much more. “Please.”

“Tell me.”

“I need you.”

“I’m here,” Hermione said, and leaned down to kiss her. 

“Please.”

“I will protect you. You can let go.”

“ _Hermione_.” Pansy was coming, light flashing behind her lids, pleasure pooling hotly through her stomach and thighs. She was going crazy with it.

When she relaxed, Hermione took her into her arms. She kissed her forehead. 

Pansy was so damn wrecked. She wanted to speak, but she couldn’t get the words out.

“Damn Harry,” Hermione said. 

“Hmm?”

“I told him not to meddle.”

Pansy stretched. She needed to clean herself up but she was too lazy to reach for her wand. “I’m glad he meddled.”

Hermione smiled brightly. “Me too.”


End file.
